


I Believe in Robb Stark

by Silveraxe (princegrisejoie)



Series: Time goes so fast, Heaven is Lost [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: (I've put a warning to be safe - be careful), Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Crime, Apparent Death, Implied Relationships, Kidnapping, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Psychological Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-17
Updated: 2013-07-17
Packaged: 2017-12-20 12:48:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/887448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princegrisejoie/pseuds/Silveraxe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[Gotham City/Crime!AU] Theon still clearly remembered how Robb’s voice had sounded when he had comforted him, though it seemed like ages ago already. Robb was always speaking from an open heart, his voice full of hope and promise. <i>We’ll find him. Don’t worry, we’ll find him and lock him up.</i> And though Theon could not believe Robb’s promise, he was touched and grateful that he had tried to comfort him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Believe in Robb Stark

**Author's Note:**

> First part of which will probably be a Gotham!AU series yay ! Not a crossover though since no Batman character actually appears.  
> Translated by Majora, beta'd by Janiedean <3\. You can read the original work [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/869919) !  
> Enjoy ~

Theon still clearly remembered how Robb’s voice had sounded when he had comforted him, though it seemed like ages ago already. Robb was always speaking from an open heart, his voice full of hope and promise.  
  
_We’ll find him. Don’t worry, we’ll find him and lock him up._  
  
And though Theon could not believe Robb’s promise, he was touched and grateful that he had tried to comfort him.  
  
No one else had ever done that for him.

And no one else will.

A few days ago, hell broke loose when Gotham’s newspapers announced that Ramsay Snow had broken his thumb intentionally to get out of a pair of handcuffs and then escaped from Arkham Asylum via the patient transfer system. He had killed two prison guards and the driver of the police van in the process and then vanished into the air.

Gotham’s youngest prosecutor was insanely furious when the news reached him. The “Ramsay Snow case” became personal for Robb Stark who worked night and day, determined to find the prince of crime before he could strike again.

Ramsay’s improbable escape did not surprise Theon in the least. He had always been certain, deep down, that no one would ever stop Ramsay from escaping.  He was a predator, a beast made of teeth and claws, and Gotham was his prey.

  
Theon had been dating Robb Stark for only one year when Ramsay came back, putting an end to the new life he cherished so dearly. How foolish of him to believe he wouldn’t come back. Ramsay was a ghost of his past life coming for him, only for him.  
Ready to teach him his name again.

And he knew he wouldn’t escape Ramsay forever.

One week after Ramsay got away from Arkham, Theon disappeared. Robb Stark was the only one who thought it might have been a kidnapping and no one understood why he was so desperate to find him as soon as possible. Truth be told, most of Gotham's police force was actually quite relieved by the news.

“Good riddance”, they whispered behind Prosecutor Stark’s back.

*

_Everything’s gonna be alright…_

Theon woke up with a start. He was still panting loudly when someone opened the door of the dark room he had been locked in.

Memories came flooding back to him as he stared at the door. His futile attempt to fly away from Ramsay, the long nights he had spent smoking in his little flat, alone and terrified and then two eyes of liquid silver gleaming dangerously in the dark before something heavy had hit the back of his head.

“At last, you’re waking up! Good thing, ‘cause I’d have hated to do it myself.”

Ramsay’s sing-song voice brought Theon back to reality. When Ramsay took a step forward, he shrank back from him, more out of habit than necessity.  
  
But he was cornered, there was no way he could escape from his jailor, or even get away from the bed. The first time Ramsay had captured him, he wasn’t so careful.  
  
_So, he did learn from his mistakes…_  

Strangely, that fact made Theon proud. He did teach Ramsay, the Prince of Crime, Terror of Gotham City, a lesson. How furious he must have been.

“I got you, now. Mine again! How does that feel? Truth be told, I kinda missed you. And you’ve making me paranoid, disappearing like that. I almost feared you had died on me! ”  
  
There was a false cheerfulness to his tone but Theon knew better. Ramsay was close now, idly waving his knife as he spoke.

Theon had not seen him in five years but he had not changed much. His taste in clothes was still quite bizarre and Theon couldn’t help but notice that despite the five years he had spent locked up in Arkham, he had kept his infamous pink leather belt.  
  
Ramsay had always been fond of that color; he said it reminded him of flesh.

“What took you so long, Snow?”, said Theon flatly,  his smile slightly mocking.  
  
Though he pretended not to take his jailor seriously, his throat felt suddenly dry when he caught a glimpse of the anger etched across Ramsay’s features.  
He had no choice but pretending not to fear him, though. Theon knew too well the price of letting his fears take over his pride.

“You’re in no position to make witty comebacks, my dear. You know what might happen.” Ramsay bent over him, engulfing Theon in his shadow, and put his large hands around his neck. He could barely breathe, but he desperately tried not to show the feeling of helplessness that was overwhelming him.

“You managed to escape the last time, I grant you that.  And I’ve been told you’ve found a protector…” he let out a cruel laugh, “Robb Stark. A Stark! To take care of a Greyjoy, what a joke! ”

He licked his full lips and continued, almost whispering, “Have you got no self-respect?”

Theon swallowed thickly and backed away. He wanted to spit in his face, but his survival instinct averted him to do so. And, deep down, Theon knew Ramsay might be right.  
He had found comfort in Robb. He had let those strong arms embrace him, making him feel alive again and, somehow, he was ashamed of it. He should have healed his wounds alone.  
  
A Greyjoy is expected to take care of himself without anyone’s help. And he could not.

“And what did Stark ask in return?” Ramsay’s lips were so close they brushed Theon’s ear, making him shiver.  
  
“No idea. Believe it or not, he didn’t ask for anything,” Theon said, trying to keep his voice light and unconcerned.

Ramsay seemed amused “Go figure. He probably imagined you’re tougher than you actually are.”

 _You’re much stronger than you think you are, Theon_. Robb used to tell him that, and sometimes, Theon liked to think Robb was right.

He would have given everything just to be with Robb, now. He was a prosecutor, an unwavering force of justice. If someone could save Gotham, it was Robb. Theon suppressed a smile: Robb was probably the only person in the world who still had hopes for Gotham.  
The young prosecutor believed there was no cause lost, if there was but one person to have fight for it.  However, Robb was an idealist, and still a young boy.  
  
Kids often feel invincible, until the time they get hurt.

*

“Finding Snow is our priority, captain Tarth, I’m sure you understand.”

“Yes, sir. But it has been weeks since he was last seen and to be honest we’re not making any progress...”

Robb jumped up from his seat, obviously upset.  He bit his lips, silently staring at a case file on his desk. 

“Captain Tarth, assemble a team of your best men and women. I want Snow, dead or alive. Do whatever you have to do to carry out your mission. ”

If Brienne Tarth shared the Young Wolf’s hopes and dreams concerning Gotham, she sometimes felt like Robb Stark was too young and too passionate to make level-headed decisions.

She was a sensitive person as well, but years within Gotham Police Department had taught her to remain calm and collected in any situation.

“I trust you, Brienne.”

Although she had her inner doubts, Brienne was a dutiful cop, and so she decided it wasn’t her role to warn Robb Stark, although he was much younger than her.  
She hoped that she would never come to regret her choice and leaved with a nod of the head.

With Brienne gone, Robb sat down and opened the last drawer of his desk and took a necklace that was carefully hidden under a mass of paper. For a moment, he did nothing but stare at the silver wolf with golden eyes, a gift he had given to Theon for his 25th birthday.  
  
Robb sighed heavily and put the necklace on.

*

“Let me tell you a story, Theon” said Ramsay, suddenly drawing back from him, “Women like stories, don’t they?”

He turned his back to Theon, which gave him a boost of confidence.

“How’d I know?” hissed Theon. “In case you didn’t notice, I’m no lady.”

Ramsay roared with laughter, its sound heavy in the air like a threat.

“Be careful then, you already look like one!” he said through his laughter “And let me give you a piece of friendly advice, squidoo : watch your tongue.”

He was not laughing anymore, staring at Theon with unblinking eyes.

“Are you going to listen to my story?” he asked and Theon noticed the steely note in his voice. He couldn’t refuse.

He didn’t even _want_ to refuse. While that madman was talking, he was not doing any harm. It would have been foolish of him to refuse.

“Once upon a time, lived a little kraken that lost itself in Gotham dark alleys…”

It was no secret that the Greyjoys proudly claimed to have ancestors that were involved in piracy. Their sigil was a golden kraken, which perfectly embodied this “glorious” legacy and the fact they were running a tentacular criminal enterprise.

A shiver raced down his spine, but he ignored it.

“Funny idea”, Theon said flatly.

Ramsay pretended not to hear him and continued, adopting a mocking and infantile tone.

“Poor little kraken, all alone and lost in this cold, hard world. Without a home, without a family, without anything at all, really. ”

He could barely contain his excitement, now. He was intently staring down at his prey, a cruelly gleeful smile stretched across his face.

Theon’s eyes scanned the room, desperately avoiding Ramsay’s gaze, trying to focus on a rat, a spider, anything but those cold silver eyes. He would have given everything, just to pluck up the courage to look at him, to defy him but he remembered all too well the price of such insolence with Ramsay.  
  
Despite the years, it was still vivid and painful.

“You must wonder how could a Kraken - a proud beast, the Kraken, not the type to let itself be captured! – could bend the knee before Justice? "

Ramsay paused as though he was genuinely considering the question.

Annoyed by Theon’s silence, he strode over to him, grabbed the back of his head and forced him to look at him.

Diving into those white, bottomless, pits had always been a terrifying experience.  
  
" Gotham belongs to the Krakens, doesn’t she? So, why the hell would a kraken go to the police? It would be quite a funny idea, don’t you think?”

Theon wanted to say something, or at least shake his head in the negative, but the grip on his jaw was too strong.

"You wanna talk? Feel the need to explain yourself, perhaps?” His voice dropped dangerously low as he continued, “but there is nothing left to say. You're a traitor, nothing else."

  
He finally released his jaw, but Theon didn’t feel relieved in the least.

  
“The world may believe you’re a prince of sorts because you like to wear fancy clothes.  But I've always known better. You're nothing, Theon Greyjoy.  Nothing but a wreck of a man who desperately hopes he won’t go unnoticed.  It's a pitiful sight, truly.”

 

Theon was not foolish enough to contradict Ramsay - he still had a slim chance of getting out of this mess alive.  He didn’t want Robb to fight for a dead man.

 

He wanted to yell at Ramsay, to shut him up once and for all.

 

_I’m a coward, you say? Bullshit. If I was really that pathetic, I’d throw myself at your feet and beg for mercy._

  
The bastard was right on one point: he did betray Ramsay, a long time ago, when they were working together. But now those memories belonged to another life and he didn’t want to dwell on them anymore.

 

Theon had eventually left Ramsay, not without making sure the cops would find him. It was the only way for him to feel safe, nothing too personal.

Then, he had returned home, with a respectable sum of money and many tales to tell!  
But Balon Greyjoy had not shown more affection towards his son than before – he didn’t even bother to show polite interest.

 

The mafia boss was not even angry. He had laughed at him coldly in front of his most trusted lieutenants, as if Theon meant nothing more than a little crook. 

 

He had never forgotten how Asha had looked at him that night, a mixture of pity and contempt. She had tried to console him after the humiliation but he never quite forgave that look.

 

He was born a Greyjoy, just like the rest of them. And yet, even though he had robbed a dozen banks and brought all the money to his father, the latter would have found a way to insult him. He would never, ever be satisfied with his youngest and last son.

  
After that incident, he found himself alone once again; resolutely certain he wouldn’t set a foot in The Pyke’s –his father’s casino in which he had practically been raised- ever again.

 

He did consider returning to Ramsay, though. But he eventually set his mind against it, deciding that he was still above that.

 

That and he was not crazy enough to crawl back to Ramsay. In every corner of the city, it was rumored that Ramsay Snow was avidly looking for Balon Greyjoy’s youngest son. Some said he’d even promised a reward for the lucky bastard who would find “his lil’ squido’ alive. A real cowboy.

  
“Had Stark not decided you were good enough to be fucked, you'd be dead, abandoned like a dog. Tell me, what does he look like naked, that wolf boy of yo -"

 

Theon spat in Ramsay’s face, finally shutting him up.

He felt very proud, for a moment. Then he locked eyes with his jailor and he felt fear flooding him.

 

*

Tarth’s team was assembled and she was deeply satisfied with each one of her recruits.

And yet, she still had a bad feeling about it that she couldn't seem to quell, a strange mixture of apprehension, fear and grief.

Perhaps she knew the Snow case too well to let herself feel hopeful. That man was not only a violent psycho, but also an extremely intelligent one. He was powerful and resourceful and could very well put them all in a no-win situation, just by pulling a few strings.

She did not believe in miracles anymore, Gotham could wear out even its most fervent believers. However, she was still convinced there were good people in this cesspool of decay, and she would fight for them until the very end.

Robb Stark was like her, on this point.

He was one of the few noble hearts of the city. He was Gotham’s White Knight, some newspaper said, though it wasn’t well-received by Robb himself.

But his passionate (some said “fiery” or “tempestuous”) temped had scared some rational minds - Stannis Baratheon, paragon of honesty and clean-cut police commissioner refused to trust him entirely, arguing that you never knew what to expect with people who couldn’t control their emotions.

On top of that, the district Attorney was accused of being media-hungry by some people in the police department, noticeably those who didn’t approve of his meddling with the mafia business for one reason or another.

She cringed when the nickname he got when he worked internal affairs came back to her mind.

She had sworn to Catelyn Stark that she would protect her son  and she intended on keeping her word, or die trying, whatever people said about him. Gotham needed him.

  
But she wouldn’t have the time to. There was a blinding flash of light and a loud explosive sound that shattered the window behind her. When she finally came to her senses, with a very painfully ringing in her ears, the whole police station was in uproar.  
Her heart clenched painfully when she picked up the ringing phone on her desk.

*

Ramsay stamped hard on Theon’s face, this time. He felt his nose broke under the force and blood spurted all over his face and clothes.

He wanted to faint and never wake up. But he knew Ramsay had long mastered the art of putting his preys into a state of perpetual suffering that made death look like a sweet release. He wouldn’t allow him to faint or to die yet.

  
Theon coughed and raised his hand to protect his face, though he knew it wouldn’t stop Ramsay. He tried to smile, to show Ramsay an arrogant grin of bloodstained teeth, but his face and jaw ached too much.  
  
And he feared that a display of overconfidence would drive Ramsay even madder.  Theon still had one reason in the world to live, a person he didn’t want to disappoint...

He desperately wanted to survive. He closed his eyes and tried to imagine Robb’s face, but Ramsay was yelling again, firing insults and threats.

  
“Who’s laughing now, eh, Greyjoy ? You didn’t think a piece of shit like you could fuck with me like that?!” 

He was screaming so loudly that one of his henchmen eventually stepped into the room to make sure his boss wasn’t hurt. The poor guy took a punch in the face, and collapsed on the ground, but at least it seemed to soothe Ramsay’s fury for awhile.

Ramsay had stopped beating him, yet the pain seemed sharper than before, rippling through his broken body and causing him to moan. He tried to shut his eyes but scathing memories of Ramsay’s fists raining down on him came flooding his mind, making the pain even worse.

  
Drifting in a semi-conscious state, Theon felt himself being lifted from the floor.  
At least, he was sure his spine was not broken. If he came out of this hell alive, he could still dance. It might be a pitiful consolation but he decided to cling to little nothings that meant a lot to him.

  
“Guess you’ve finally learnt your lesson. I hate bragging, but I’ve been told I was a wonderful teacher, once.” Ramsay said with fake enthusiasm. He squeezed Theon’s wrist hard, his pale eyes never leaving him.

Theon tried to focus his mind on Robb, desperately trying to remember anything more than vague features and a bright smile.

 

At the same time, he was furious and ashamed of his need to depend on someone else.  
There was a time, when he’d have rather died than be so weak. And he probably would have ended up this way, if a twist of fate called Robb Stark did not offer him a way out.

Surprisingly, Robb admired Theon and never spoke ill of him. Maybe no one would ever explain this mystery, why a man such as Robb would admire Theon, but the facts were there: Robb listened to him, respected him and loved him.  
Theon never had the courage to tell him his feelings were entirely mutual. Whether Robb knew, he could never tell.

He had spent so many years consumed with the desire to prove himself to the whole world - he was a Greyjoy, he was a sharpshooter, he had guts, he was attractive, he had potential and yet all refused to admit it.

He thought the whole world hated him with a passion but in truth Theon’s greatest enemy was himself. And Robb was the only one who understood that.

By some miracle, he never found Theon pathetic.

_Everything will be fine, just believe._

Robb believed in love, justice and second chances; his unwavering faith in humanity made him strong. Theon preferred not believe in anything, for fear of being disappointed. However, even the most adamant skeptics have their exceptions.

_Believe in Robb, believe in Robb. The entire city believes in Robb, you more than anyone. Believe in Robb. Robb believes, believe in Robb._

  
Theon opened one eye. Ramsay had drawn himself to his full height, silently staring at him. An almost _bestial_ greed distorted his face and _his_ whole _body radiated his anger._

  
“You’re dreaming, Squido ?” he asked, narrowing his eyes " It's your blood, Greyjoy."

Theon understood what he meant when he glanced up at the walls of the cell he’s been thrown him earlier. The room was dimly lit, but he could see dark stains covering the walls.

He did not remember bleeding so much and he only had fainted for a few minutes. Just the thought of being alone and unconscious with Ramsay made bile rise up in his throat.

_Ramsay prefers his toys awake and aware. He’d have woken you up .... You didn’t bleed that much._

  
"You should see your face! I cannot believe such a weak and pathetic scum was ever able to kill someone. But if I remember correctly, you’ve always used a gun. A cowardly weapon for those who refuse to fight face-to-face. Quite fitting for you, Theon Greyjoy. "

Theon swallowed, but the anxiety did not want to leave. He dreaded every movement Ramsay. His heart skipped a beat when he stooped to pick up his knife.

"How long has it been since you last killed a man?... Ah, I see. It belongs to your old life, when you still wanted to please Daddy Balon. "

He felt the cool steal of the blade graze over the skin of his hand.

“It was the good old times, when you were not a filthy..."  he laid the edge of his knife under Theon’s nail, “… dirty…” the blade was sinking beneath his nail, deeper and deeper ... Theon bit his lip hard as his finger began to bleed profusely. "...TRAITOR! "

The blade lifted the nail with a small noise – it was music to Ramsay’s ears.

Theon was still howling when Ramsay opened the door of his cell and snapped his fingers.

*

She had never felt so alone in a crowd. She noticed people talking in hushed voices as she climbed on the stage; she gritted her teeth, kept her head up and tried to act as though she neither noticed nor cared.

She strode over the stage and decided to stand next to Commissioner Baratheon. All her emotions were intertwined with her sense of duty, however, she knew she couldn’t allow herself to fall apart now. There were still people ready to believe in good, it was her duty to fight for them.

  
The flashes of cameras blinded her.

"Commissioner Baratheon, tell us about the explosion this morning - do you have any idea how many victims it caused? Any comment? Any more details?"

  
Stannis Baratheon dismissed the questions with a wave of the hand, "Minor details. We’ve already  told you what we know on that specific matter.”

  
He stood, rigid, looking straight ahead, dark circles under his eyes. His lieutenant was standing to his right, a grave expression on his face, eyes staring down.

  
There was an instant uproar in the conference room.

A press conference was called two hours after the explosion that shattered the courthouse. There were fifty dead and as many wounded people. But Gotham had seen worse.  
  
But then a second conference was convened shortly after.  
  
When Stannis Baratheon finally spoke, all were hanged upon his every word, room silent as a graveyard.

   
" We’ve learned Prosecutor Robb Stark was killed this morning in the explosion. "

Brienne stifled a sob. It was like a sword stuck in the little hope left for all of them. And her personal defeat. She had a thought for Catelyn and clenched her fists until her nails dug into her palms.

*

 

Ramsay stroked his cheek in a sickly soft gesture..

His body screamed for the pain to end, and he wanted to scream as well. He wanted to black out, to die, to finally disappear in nothingness.

_No. Fight, hope. Remember. You just have to focus on a happy memory._  
  
“You only need one powerful enough to alleviate the pain, to make you going on”. 

 

That's what Robb Stark told him. That’s what he tried to do.

  
"You know what's funny about this story, Reek?” Theon resisted the urge to spit in his face again.

 

_“You’re name is Theon? That’s original… but really pretty! Never heard it before.”_

_Theon. Greyjoy. Theon Greyjoy. But Theon is enough. You’re Theon._

Ramsay’s blade was dancing on his bare chest. "You've always thought of yourself as a cynical person... but truth is, you're just naive. You believed you could become someone – but I can forgive you that." He let out a cruel laugh " After all, you just wanted to please Papa Kraken and a bunch of gangsters who did not care about you. Even me, maybe! "

 

This time he broke into hysterical laughter. When he finally stopped, he whispered, slightly sing songing:

  
"But that’s not the worst…." He tore his skin again. Theon hissed in pain, Ramsay smiled.

"You did not really believe that blood was yours ... didn’t you ? "

 

*

"You have not found the body? " Catelyn Stark exploded. Brienne put a hand on her shoulder.

She had insisted to break the news of Robb’s death herself.  The Stark children were all in shock, pale and trembling with rage and grief. They already had overcome the death of their father, whose murder had shocked Gotham a few years ago. Now they had to face the loss of their brother and son.

Brienne had a long discussion with Catelyn Stark. In front of her, Robb’s mother allowed herself some tears; however she was so devastated that even letting out a few sobs seemed painful.

When someone at the police station had phoned Brienne to tell her they hadn’t found Robb’s body, she had tried to keep her composure in front of Catelyn.  
But she guessed.

 _You can’t hide anything from her_ , thought Brienne with admiration.

  
"I have to be honest with you, Catelyn." Brienne said. "We did not find the body, but we’re still investigating. It is possible that the attack targeted your son in particular. "

Catelyn gave a desperate sigh. "I can not imagine him to be ..."

"... Alive? I would like to believe that. But I do not want to give you false hopes. His killer might have kept his body."

Brienne grabbed Catelyn's hand and squeezed it. "In this case, I promise you that I will find him.”

When she returned home that evening, she found a letter waiting for her on her desk.

Her blood ran cold.

*

" YOU’RE LYING!"

  
His body refused to obey him; he could not get up, nor hit, or run ... so he screamed.

He was yelling, cursing, for what seemed like hours. He knew that Ramsay was lying, he was playing with him. He expected him to be his weak, meek little puppet again.  
  
Theon screamed, heedless of the burning in his throat. It was his only shield against Ramsay.

  
"TELL ME YOU’RE LYING. OR PROVE ME YOU’RE NOT! "  
  
Oddly, Ramsay didn’t seem to find Theon’s breakdown amusing. Theon mentally congratulated himself. After all, maybe he managed to annoy the beast.  
Ramsay preferred preys he could dominate. With a little luck, Theon had proven that he was not his ideal prey anymore... He would have to thank Robb later.

In the end, he had started screaming, for him, only for him.  
  
"Poor little wounded animal," whispered Ramsay, a strange hint of bitterness in his voice.  
  
"You need me to prove that your master is dead? There was a time when you’d believe my every word. Ah, nostalgia. Glorious times, forever gooone…"

"Robb is not. My. Master." Theon spat each word. "DO NOT APPROACH ME! ".

Ramsay raised an eyebrow, gazing at Theon with unfathomable eyes. He was standing above Theon, who was still curled up on the floor, one leg on each side of his body.

"Robb Stark was the only person looking out for you, after you disappeared. A real pain in the ass, that wolfling. When he started to put his nose in my business, I put a price on his head. "

He _twirled_ the _knife_ between his _fingers_. " To be honest with you, I don’t know who had the skin of the young wolf. And I do not care. He's dead that’s all that matters. "

" SHUT YOUR MOUTH, RAMSAY! I WON’T FALL FOR THAT. YOU’RE LYING !" Theon roared.

He kept screaming his head off, fearing he might start to cry if he didn’t.

Ramsay opened his fist and dropped something on Theon’s face: "Is this yours ?"

A small silver wolf with golden pupils stared at Theon. "Where - where did you get this?”  he stammered, struggling with words like a drowning man swallowed by the ocean.

  
_It's a nightmare, it's impossible. This is my pendant. The first gift Robb ever gave to me...  Ramsay must have taken it from me when I passed out… Or I forgot it the day he kidnapped me and he stole it._

_Robb would have treasured it... Memories are important to him. It would have given him courage..._

  
He wanted to puke.

  
"Someone gave it to me! I was so happy ! You know me, I DO love surprises! " Ramsay let out a wry laugh. "Funny, just like you do. Stark offers you a wolf-like jewel and you, the epitome of meekness, you’re all happy ! Like a puppy! It's just like a dog collar, don’t you think ? Maybe more elegant, Igrant you. Did he rub your belly, sometimes? And you licked his hand if he asked you to? "

  
"SHUT UP, RAMSAY! " bellowed Theon ”IF HE’S DEAD, TELL ME AND KILL ME!”

  
The day Robb had given him the necklace, he had felt free for the first time in his life. Free to be Theon, just Theon.

_That's enough for me, Theon._  
  


It was his happiest memory.

  
He couldn’t close his eyes when Ramsay, practically lying on him, squeezed his throat.

Stars began to cloud his vision and he felt an overwhelming pain that _constricted his breathing_. He was strangling him. He’d probably choke a few minutes, then he would die.

With Robb. He had always believed in Robb.

_Robb believes, believe in Robb. This is the only hope you have left. Here or in the afterlife ... Robb believed in the afterlife, right? So maybe you could believe in it too, oh, just for a little moment..._

  
Tears – maybe blood, he couldn’t tell – rolled down his cheeks. If he died and Robb beliefs were true, he would go straight to Hell. How could he ever find Robb there?

_Everything will be alright ..._  
  


When he opened his eyes again the pendant was resting upon his chest.

He took it cautiously, kissed it, and waited in the dark.


End file.
